Destined
by Angel-Chan
Summary: -sequel to 'Fated'- When life hits rock bottom, it can only get better... right? As events from the past come back to haunt him, Takato comes to terms with his destiny.


_A/N: This is the sequel to both 'Fated' and 'Tortured Minds, Broken Souls.' If you've yet to read them (though I cannot imagine why, seeing as they're oooooold), please hold off reading this and read the other two first. _

_For those who are pretty much going, "OMGWTF SHE UPDATED," consider this a promise. I will get this story done, even if it kills me. I just... hope you can be patient. I cannot guarantee a quick update (college has swallowed my soul); and the laptop I have at the moment is not the one with my old chapters. So it may take a while. Also, some of you may have previewed an early copy of this (a long time ago, mind). I have rewritten it and added a few new scenes, but I wanted to keep as much as I could. ...I kind of liked how I'd written it, way back when. The song used in this, for both the title and a few lyrics, is Hoobastank's 'What Happened to Us?' I felt it fit the mood rather well. Anyway, what are you still reading this for? Here's the prologue to 'Destined!'_

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_**Destined**_

_Prologue: What Happened to Us?_

_"If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."_ - Anonymous

Time ticks past, speeding down the passageway of life like a racer–or perhaps a teenager–who could care less about the speed limits and consequences; it stops every now and then to take a good look at where it's standing, not that it matters, before trekking on once more. People age and die, loves are separated and reunited in the blink of an eye, buildings crumble only to be replaced by new ones. Time holds little interest in its own passage, let alone the events that happen while it's busy running.

To time, we are merely obstacles obstructing its prolonged journey.

So why was it that, as Takato Matsuki huddled over his girlfriend's desk, engaged in a futile attempt to teach her the fine basics of math, time seemed to be standing still–as though it were deeply intrigued with said boy's life?

The brown haired teen yawned, blinking away the tears that followed. Who knew? Time was strange like that, always slowing down at the worst possible moment! Like in car wrecks and the last five minutes of school. With a grunt, he shifted his weight slightly (her new carpet was cute, a light shade of blue, but the fibers were so _prickly_...) and pointed to the next problem. "Now," he chided softly, "see here? The only way to solve for X is to take the log of both sides–but you have to be careful. Dealing with e means you'll need the natural log–understand?"

Silence. Then a sigh. Finally, there came a withered reply: "Not... really."

Forcing a smile onto his lips, Takato wrapped an arm around Rika's shoulders. Her long locks pooled over his chest as he tugged her closer. Sometimes she amazed him; determined, fiery Rika had been turned into a confused, bumbling mess all because of a few minor math miscalculations! It was simple things that she didn't quite understand, too: the use of logs and whatnot, as well as some trigonometry equations. Truthfully, he was neither getting frustrated nor impatient with her lack of understanding. Heck, if he could, he'd stay there all night. To tutor her, mind you! Sadly, he had a curfew (why, yes, his mother still controlled his life, thank you very much) and seriously doubted the redhead's mother would allow him to 'sleep over.'

He licked his lips before stating, "That's okay–we'll have this issue tackled in no time!" A chuckle and an eye roll was Rika's _enthusiastic_ response. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he took in a deep breath. She smelt clean... but she'd also just taken a shower before he showed up. Perhaps she really had quit?

In an attempt to clear his mind, he allowed his eyes to stroll around her room. Unlike his, it was neat, tidy, and without a trace of dust or grime (so he was a little messy... what of it?). The body length mirror to his right reflected an image back to him: a depressed teen gripping tightly to the girl in his arms, like he expected her to fly away. No... he couldn't let those kinds of ideas to penetrate his thoughts. Not now.

Takato shook his head and focused on the pictures wedged in the sides. The two of them at the beach; Takato, sleeping in his boxers (taken without his permission); the whole gang at the park doing who-knows-what; her grandma, smiling; her mother holding a newly born Sakura; and a faded picture of her father. Against one wall, next to the mirror, rested a mahogany dresser, barren of the usual makeup and accessories one would expect to find in a teenaged girl's room. At the other end of the room resided her futon, dark sheets folded and waiting for nighttime. He debated closing the sliding doors–it was getting a little chilly–but the whites and yellows of the garden outside calmed him.

In the end, the boy stood and cleared his throat. Uneasiness swelled deep within the pit of his stomach, but he dismissed it. It would return later... it always did.

Glancing at her wristwatch, Rika let out a weak (fake) groan. She looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Eight-thirty _already_?" Shaking her head in disappointment, the redhead practically forced her boyfriend into the main room.

Why... why was she being so fake? What made her act like that–and around him, no less? ...another thing to think about later. Before he could do anything else, a weight latched itself to his left leg.

"Takato! You're not going home yet, right?"

He smiled softly. Reaching down, he scooped up the child and lifted her into the air. "I'm 'fraid so, Sakura."

Her lower lip puckered out, a flash of pink. Oh, the pout! It was hard to deny such a thing! "Awww," she whined, "but you're good at telling stories! Better than Rika at the scary voices!"

This caused the goggleboy to chuckle. One time, the girl had demanded they recite a tale from the "Big Book of Stories." Yes, the title was _that_ generic. So Takato and Rika sat by the child's bed and voiced each part (Rika's fairy and witch were quite impressive, actually!). The amusing night ended with the two of them passing out in the chair from exhaustion.

With the memory fresh in his mind, he couldn't help but grin as he rasped, _"Well, seeing as you're so adamant..."_

"You can't."

Surprised blue; pained almond. Sakura and Takato quieted down as Rika stepped up to them with a stern look that would have sent normal people running. Thank goodness he wasn't exactly normal!

Fists clenched, she repeated, "You _can't_, right, Takato?"

She... was kicking him out. So that's what it was. "Y-yeah, that's right!" The lie came easily enough, though a part of himself hated it. "I have to help my family with some baking tonight–big order, you know."

Sakura opened her mouth, brows narrowed stubbornly, to protest; but her sister quickly flashed her a look that appeared happy (_Not happy... but calmer,_ Takato noted) and pried her from her boyfriend's arms. "Now, now," she whispered, setting the child down on the couch. "It's almost the Saturday, and you know how Takato pretty much lives here every weekend. I think you can wait a few days... _if_ you're a big girl."

"Yes! I'm a big, _big_ girl!" Her face became determined... immediately followed by a giggle. A quick wave and a "see you Takato!" later, her tiny feet pounded on the wooden floor as she disappeared into her room. He had to hand it to her–she was quite the ball of energy.

"She's rather excitable tonight!" Rika's response was a dull nod in his direction. Ah, right. He didn't 'have time' to stand around and chitchat, did he?

Flashing his ever-popular lopsided grin, Takato muttered a soft farewell to the girl he loved. She fidgeted slightly, like she was in a hurry. Ignoring the sensation that was currently coursing through his veins (unwanted, unneeded, un–), he leaned forward so as to plant a kiss upon her lips...

...and she turned away.

"Y-you'd better head out–y'know," the redhead murmured uneasily, "before your mother has another tantrum." With a plain peck placed on his cheek, the poor boy was more or less booted out of the house. His chestnut orbs glared at the closed door hoping to get some kind of answer.

Sadly, inanimate objects tend to remain silent.

He shoved his hand into his pocket with a snort; pulling out a pair of silver car keys, Takato stormed down the walkway. A rusty blue Corsica waited for him obediently. "Gee," he spat against the moonless sky, "I love you, too!"

Three weeks! She'd been acting like that for three weeks, now! Silent, uncaring, distant–just a few words that came to mind about Rika's actions recently. He stopped, fumbling with his keys as he attempted to unlock the door. It was as though she had become a different person... Sure, he'd thought something was wrong when he'd caught her smoking–yes, smoking!–behind the school, but he never tried to question her. No matter what she did, he would always love her.

Truthfully, Rika had changed quite a lot over the past few years (everyone had, really). Perhaps highschool was grinding her down? He wasn't sure, and she rarely confided in him anymore. Well, scratch that. She talked to him, but it was so bland and simple most of the time that he felt like he didn't know her. Their last drawn-out discussion had occurred over the summer, focusing on the future–on college. That had been only a few months ago... How he missed those conversations, chatting like when he had first met her. You know, about anything and everything!

It wasn't like he could go and talk to his friends about it, either. Kazu never did try to reconcile with him, and Kenta followed in suite. They had somehow turned punk... or goth... or some strange mix of the two. All Takato really knew was that they hung out with people who 'appreciated them' now, making mischief and causing chaos wherever they roamed. The change in clothing and interests didn't really matter–it was the change in attitude that irked him. Seriously, were jokes really that important? Even at the cost of a life?

Although he _was_ on speaking terms with Henry, the blue haired boy was so caught up in his studies that very little else was able to merge into his world. Jeri said he was busy with cram school and student council and whatnot, but there had to be more to it than that...

Speaking of Jeri, she was probably the only one he talked to anymore. Some of his problems, like Rika's coldness, she was aware of, but he really didn't want to pull her off to the side and dump all of his issues on the floor. The relationship between Jeri and Henry had become a little... muddy as of late. Whether she was feeling unloved or just 'second best' when compared to the brainiac's studies, Takato didn't know; but there was _something_ wrong. He kind of felt bad when he constantly complained about his life, because Jeri often hid her problems behind a smile.

So, more oft than not, the gogglehead tried to drown himself in schoolwork. For some reason, it always helped him take his mind off everything, stripping away the layers of doubt and agony until he felt empty (save for the constant studying). Because of this, he was currently ranked number two in the school. Why, yes, you heard right! Takato was doing _quite_ well! With grades as good as they were, he would be able to choose from some of the most prestigious colleges in Japan. A few places had perked his interests (although one college in America also looked appealing), but he was still unsure.

It was hard, you see, because Rika wasn't exactly in the 'top ten,' and she didn't really plan on moving far away. It wasn't like they couldn't work out some long-distance relationship, but it would hurt them both. There was just this... _need_ to be near each other. Something that he would crave if he did leave the country; and he feared that it would drive him crazy. If they wanted to be together–truly together, side by side–one would have to sacrifice something for the other.

And now, what with the redhead acting so withdrawn, he was apprehensive. What if she didn't want to be with him anymore? Was it over, and she was just putting up with him for pity's sake? It confused him, and there were nights when he'd just lay in bed _trying_ to figure it out. Was he needy? Boring? Well, Takato didn't think so, but he was used to himself. Maybe... maybe Rika was tired of him?

The teen, after ramming his head onto the steering wheel of his car for the umpteenth time, realized that he had been sitting there for a while. Just thinking.

_Damn it all._

He slowly brought the car to life, revving it up a few times in hopes of calming his nerves; no such luck. Cranking the radio up as loud as he could, Takato drove off, faintly listening to the song in the background of his rambling thoughts.

'_What happened to us? We used to be so perfect, now were lost and lonely._

_What happened to us? And deep inside I wonder, "Did I lose my only one?"'_

He'd heard someone once say that highschool's supposed to be the best time of your life...

Well, if that's the case, then poor Takato could only wonder what the rest of his life would be like.


End file.
